


Convenient Inconveniences

by PuroSensei



Category: Fruits Basket, Fruits Basket (Anime 2019), Fruits Basket - Takaya Natsuki (Manga)
Genre: F/M, Friends to Lovers, Living Together, Mutual Pining, Post-Canon, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-15
Updated: 2020-08-24
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:46:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 17,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25919794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PuroSensei/pseuds/PuroSensei
Summary: Some inconveniences have Mayuko conveniently staying with Hatori. One story, two angles, many nice days.Things change, slowly but surely.
Relationships: Honda Tohru/Sohma Kyou, Shiraki Mayuko/Sohma Hatori, Sohma Akito/Sohma Shigure, Sohma Kureno/Uotani Arisa
Comments: 30
Kudos: 136





	1. Mayuko

**Author's Note:**

> I first wrote this fic nearly 15 years ago. Now I'm rereading Fruits Basket, reliving it through the new anime, and leaving my hometown all at once. The original was a little poorly written, a little problematic, a little immature. I'm redo-ing it because I felt nostalgic; I don't really expect anyone to read it.
> 
> ** If by some insane chance you are familiar with that old thing I wrote, please please do not mention it. I'd rather keep these accounts separate.

The first time he called her Mayu, she dropped a stack of books she had been carrying through the store. Hatori was still looking at a book, asking her if she had the sequel. It took a moment for her to answer. He had said it so casually, the sound of her nickname sent a flurry of butterflies through her.

It was always like this with Hatori. Casual. Simple. Without ceremony. After years of missing him, she found herself seeing him often just like that. He came to the store often. He called her out for drinks. He took her to dinner. She couldn't put her finger on what had changed but something had. Maybe it was all the little things. His hair was longer and so was her's. The sky turned blue then clouded, then blue again. He wore lighter clothing around her. He smiled like he used to when they first met, chuckling as he lit a cigarette and pulled the ashtray across the bar towards himself.

There were small kindnesses, too. A book he slid across the counter, saying, "I think you might like this." Arriving at the bar to find he had already ordered her favorite drink while he waited. He pushed it towards her without looking at her as he finished the last line of a chapter and shut the book, setting it down before meeting her eyes. On days she was out sick from school he'd inevitably hear the news through a vague chain between the Sohmas in her class, to Shigure, then a phone call from Hatori asking how she felt. Even if she said she was fine, he appeared with soup and a box of medicine. She couldn't help but resent it, just a little.

They were friends again but these things were never enough when she saw the shape of his neck above an unbuttoned collar, felt the large, warm hand that checked her temperature at her front door. It made her feel so lonely — lonelier, even, than the long evenings she spent with Shigure, side-by-side but not touching. At least he never touched her so lightly that it made her shiver. It felt needlessly complicated.

The last time they spoke he had said something on the cusp of something — just enough to tease her, and feel acutely how much she wanted to hear more. _I'm happy we get to spend time together like this._ Casually, again. Walking her home on a warm evening with the smell of pollen and fried food lazy in the air between them. She wanted to ask, _How happy?_ because she was sure it would be nothing close to the wrenching, soaring, excruciating elation she felt in her gut whenever he walked across a room towards her. Instead she said, _Me too,_ as simply as he had, and that was all they said of it for the rest of the night.

But things were changing. As if sensing it, the ceiling, always secure above her head, began to drip one evening. She swore. She hurriedly shoved the papers she was grading into her bag. A damp spot grew on her ceiling. On cue, the phone rang. Inconveniently, with a familiar caller ID.

"Hey, Hatori-kun." He called her often lately. For no reason at all, sometimes. She hated how much she loved it.

"Before you ask," she began, "I did finally watch that movie we were talking about the other night. And — _fuck_."

"Mayu?" Again, the irritating jump in her throat at the sound. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, it's just—" The light dripping escalated. A puddle began to form on her dining table. She hurried to the kitchen for a bowl.

"Are you sure?" Hatori listened. His voice sounded tense. She wasn't sure what he imagined was happening with all the shuffling, banging, clanging coming from her end as she set out bowls, futilely, on her little dining table.

"Don't worry about it!" she called, balancing the phone on her shoulder.

"No, I'm worried."

"Listen, let's talk later."

"Mayu—" 

She hung up. She didn’t have time to contend with her Hatori-feelings in the midst of all this. There was an argument with her landlord, apologies, accusations, a myriad of aggravating things. By the time it was over, she had very little time to evacuate, her entire floor a flurry of angry tenants splashing through puddles in the hallway. In the midst of it all, Mayuko found Hatori, of all people, standing at her door watching the commotion, looking out of place in his usual tranquility.

 _"What are you doing here?"_ she was already yelling at this point, after the heated exchange with her landlord.

"I see that things are not fine here."

"I know, I know. I'm sorry, but you'd better go home. There's not much you can do here, and I need to pack. I need to call my parents." She groaned. "I am _not_ looking forward to staying with them for a month. Maybe I should call Kana? Ah, but the baby..."

Hatori watched her pace around her apartment, snatching up things, saving anything she cared about from the sopping wet floor. "Do you need a place to stay?"

He asked this so casually, she said "Yes," automatically. She didn't expect him to say, "Just come stay with me."

"T-that's really not necessary," she said, though what she meant was, _That's really not something I can handle._

Hatori took out his phone and began dialing. "I see. Well, if it's about space, Shigure should have more room at his place, let me just ..." 

_"I beg you, do not."_ Hatori knew just how to threaten her, and 90% of the time, it involved Shigure. She caught a shade of a smile pass over his face momentarily, before he pocketed his phone once more. "Well, it's settled then. Come home with me."

How cruel it was to hear him say, so casually yet again, the words she secretly hoped for every time she followed him out of the bar at the end of the night. Weakly, she said, "Fine." It would be a lie to say she had no choice. He knew that too. So, maybe she agreed because things were changing, and she wanted to see where they would go. 

*

In the car, Hatori offered to drive her to work. It would be on his way to the Sohma main house, he said. She declined, mortified at the thought of any number of Sohma children witnessing her getting out of Hatori’s car. She was perfectly capable of taking the bus, and she’d never live it down if the rumor got around that she was living with a guy. The questions, my god. Teachers loved to talk.

She stole glances at him now and again. Was he nervous? Was she the only one who felt like this arrangement threatened the fragile peace they’d managed to establish over months and months of sitting carefully apart at the bar? She could never guess what he thought.

His apartment was beautiful — a large, modern one-bedroom in a neighborhood she couldn’t begin to afford. As expected of a Sohma. It was fairly stark, boxes stacked here and there.

“Sorry for the mess. I just moved in a month ago.”

Yes, that’s right. He moved out of the Sohma main house. It was a big step for him. They had discussed it in hushed tones late one night, Hatori lighting cigarette after cigarette, the only indication that he felt anxious about it.

“You can sleep in the bedroom,” he said.

“I’ll take the couch! Really! I insist!” Her words fell on deaf ears as he carried her bag into the bedroom and Mayuko followed with her pleas.

“My house, my rules.” He set the bag down and crossed his arms. He was smiling. She couldn’t argue when he smiled like that. 

They ordered in, spread the takeout boxes between them on the low table in front of his couch. They fought over the best piece of pork, before Hatori surrendered it to her, laughing, as though he never wanted it in the first place. She liked how easily he laughed lately.

The sheets smelled like clean, generic detergent. She caught it though, that hint of Hatori — shampoo, cologne — the scents that teased her when he got too close. She slept fitfully, nervous in a way she hadn’t been since she was young, sleeping in a man’s bed for the first time. Some time in the night, she crept out for a glass of water. She drained it quickly, and gave into that temptation that nagged her all night.

Hatori, sleeping. Mayuko, sleepily disappointed to find him wearing a shirt (but of course he would, he was modest — too modest). One elbow hung off the couch and the pillow was crooked under his head. The blanket had fallen to the floor. A convenient excuse.

She tiptoed into the living room and knelt next to him, tucking the blanket around him. He continued to sleep. She almost laughed at how close his sleeping face was to his waking one. That expressionless man. 

She thought she might just watch him for a little while but then quickly, it was bright and Hatori sat propped up on one elbow, smiling. He touched her hair. “Good morning, Mayu. I suspect you have an ache in your neck by now?”

What a terribly good dream A nightmare, when she realized it was real. She didn’t dare imagine what color her face turned. “I was fixing the blanket! And… I was having trouble sleeping…. And…”

“You were sleeping well a moment ago.” He didn’t wait for her to respond, but instead stood up. “Coffee?”

Hatori must have known she was in love with him. But then again, maybe he was dense. She thought of Kyo and Honda, how they circled each other under her nose for years. The notebook she found one afternoon while she and Shigure were dating, full of poems about a mystery woman he never spoke of aloud (she knew, even then, that it was not her). The strange, flirtatious dance that Ayame and his assistant did for years. It seemed to be a family trait.

*

Each day Mayuko almost got off the bus at the wrong stop. Then she would remember the walls of Hatori’s apartment, familiar now, and her heart quite literally skipped a beat, the stupid thing. The least she could do was make him a meal or two, right? Usually he cooked when he returned home as she sat at the table grading final papers. Simple, traditional meals that reminded her of childhood. The least she could do was contribute sometimes.

Only she was a terrible cook. Classes were over and the days had become easy. All she had left to do was paperwork, a last push of scoring essays and submitting grades. Between her tasks, she flipped through cookbooks she stole away from the school library, trying to find something simple that even she couldn’t fuck up.

The last day before break was a sunny one. Mayuko leaned on her desk in a particularly nice patch of sunlight, flipping through another one of those books, muttering to herself. She hardly noticed Honda walk up as she muttered, “But would he even like that…”

“Who?”

Mayuko almost dropped the book. “N-no-one.” She slammed it onto the table. “Can I help you, Honda?”

“I’m here for my diploma.”

“Right.”

As Mayuko shuffled through the drawers for the little tube she had set aside for her, Honda said, “I know a recipe that Hatori-san likes.”

Mayuko paused. “That…” She tried not to make a face but she could feel the blood rushing up to her cheeks.

Honda laughed. “I hear them talking sometimes. Shigure-san teases Hatori-san about you a lot.”

That bastard.

Honda fished a notebook from her bag and tore out a page. “My mother says this curry can make anyone fall in love.” She began to write.

“You’ve made it for Orangey then?” If Honda could tease her, she could tease back.

Had it been even a few months ago, she may have turned fifteen colors and started squealing and stuttering but the Honda in that warm classroom smiled and said, “Yes. Many times.”

It happened every year, but she never got used to it. The person who had been a girl when they first met stood before her as an adult, firmly on her two feet. She had changed, slowly, when Mayuko wasn’t paying attention. While she was reading her mediocre essay, crossing out the many mistakes on her test scores. She looked up from her papers one day and a woman stood before her on a summer day, handing her a folded piece of paper.

Mayuko took the recipe and handed her the diploma. “I heard you’re leaving soon.”

“Yeah.” Honda clutched her diploma to her chest. “I’ll miss this place.”

“Good luck, kid.” Each year, she heard her students say those words, and each time she knew that she was the one who would miss them more than they would miss this place once their lives unfolded before them.

At home, she placed the curry on the table just as Hatori came through the door.

“Perfect timing,” she said.

“Is it edible?” he replied. “I heard a few things about your cooking from Kana.”

Mayuko faltered. She never thought she’d hear him say her name so easily, without a flinch. “O-Of course. I’ve practiced since then.” A lie. Hatori looked at her doubtfully, fully knowing this.

Of course he said it was delicious. Strangely, watching him eat her food, maybe because the name had just hung in the air moments ago, she couldn’t help but think of him eating Kana’s bento as they all picnicked together during cherry blossom season.

The tears came suddenly but surely. Hatori tilted his head. “Mayu? I was serious when I said it’s good.”

“You never called me that for the longest time.” She sniffed.

He fell silent. “Well… I thought maybe it would be okay if I did, now. Is it not?”

“No it… I like it… sorry….” Mayuko covered her face with her hands. She cried easily. Hatori knew this already, because she had cried in front of him many times, over little things. She didn’t know if she was an ugly crier, but she sure wasn’t a dainty one. Every time she still felt embarrassed. “I always get emotional around graduation. I’m sorry. Things keep changing.” Things that felt lasting — Hatori and Kana, children being children — one day she looked up to find that they had gone somewhere that they would never come back from.

Hatori sighed. “I know. But… aren’t you grateful?” She peeked through her hands. Hatori wasn’t looking at her, but at the curry.

“What?”

He looked up. “I’m happy things can finally change.”

Again, he spoke cryptically. She didn’t know if he was talking about himself, the kids, or whatever was happening between them. Either way, the curry tasted good. Good enough to make her fall a little more in love.

*

Hatori and Mayuko avoided mentioning their arrangement to the two most troublesome people in Hatori’s life for as long as possible. It was, of course, inevitable. On the first Saturday of school break, Mayuko allowed herself the luxury of sleeping in. She’d only have a few days off before it was time for tutoring, helping at the bookstore. Even then, her body only let her sleep an hour past her usual time. Hatori had the day off. He had said this last night just before bed. _Maybe we can go somewhere_. Mayuko brushed her hair, humming, wondering how they would spend the day.

In the living room, however, she stopped dead. “ _What_ are you two doing here,” she cried.

“We came to keep our beloved Tori-san company on his day off, of course!” Ayame flourished his arm in Hatori’s general direction. “But I see it wasn’t quite necessary after all!”

Mayuko flushed, quickly starting on an explanation, but Shigure put up a hand. “My, my, Mayu. What have we here? No need to explain your little walk of shame to us.”

“But it’s really—”

“They know,” Hatori said at last, putting down the newspaper he was reading. “I already told them when they got here. They’re teasing you.”

“Join us, Mayu-chan!” Ayame made another wild gesture towards the empty spot on the couch beside him.

Mayuko scowled and sat down and Ayame poured her a cup of tea. “Now, won’t you two tell us what’s really going on here?”

“Nothing,” they said simultaneously, sending Shigure into a fit of laughter.

“You two are perfectly in sync!” He stood up and placed a hand on Hatori’s shoulder. “Now come on, I was just waiting to witness Mayu’s face when she saw us — which did not disappoint, by the way!” Shigure shot a wink at Mayu and she considered throwing hot tea at his face. “Let’s get those pastries Aya wanted!”

Hatori sighed and stood up. While Shigure happily slid on his shoes at the door, Hatori gave Mayuko an apologetic smile. “I didn’t know they were coming, I promise.”

She smiled back. “I believe you.”

As soon as they left Ayame was in the kitchen, humming. Mayuko sat on the couch for a little while. There was something comforting about the sounds he made, bustling around the kitchen. It reminded Mayuko of school breaks when she was a teenager, waking up late and listening to her mother busy in the kitchen while she read a book on the carpet. Mayuko drained her teacup and stepped tentatively into the kitchen. Ayame was fiddling with a radio on the windowsill when she walked in. He found a classical station and waltzed his way to the sink to fill a kettle.

“Can I help with anything?” she asked.

Ayame turned, tossing his hair with flourish as he said, “My tea brewing is a matter of perfection, dear Mayu—only to be touched by my practiced hands.”

Mayuko scoffed.

“I’m glad you’re here. I like Hatori when he’s with you. That gentleness he gets. For some time, I was afraid he’d lost it.”

Mayuko blushed and shrugged. “I don’t think it’s anything to do with me. But I know what you mean. He’s… different, somehow. Lighter. You are too, Aya. Even Shigure. What happened?”

Ayame chuckled. “So perceptive, Mayu. As expected of a teacher.” He twirled over and offered her a hand. “Care to dance?”

Mayu crossed her arms. “I’m good.” Ayame pouted and flitted, dancing circles around her and humming along to the radio until even she couldn’t help but smile. “Alright. You weirdo.”

“Ah, but that’s part of my charm.” Ayame swept her into his arms. She had never been this close to him before. Strangely, she could never remember any of them getting much too close, let alone touching her, before recently. From this distance, she saw his resemblance to Yuki, both of their resemblance to their mother. “I think you two would be good, for what it’s worth,” Ayame said, meeting her gaze with his usual unflinching confidence.

She flushed and looked at their feet. “You and Shigure are relentless. Hatori and I are just friends.”

“Don’t be silly. Just promise that I can make your wedding dress, I have the perfect thing for your lovely tall physique.”

“Fuck off.”

Ayame laughed and the kettle let out a shrill cry. The two parted. As irritating as Shigure and Ayame were, there was a reason Mayuko never said no to hanging out with them. They were fun when they wanted to be, never dull, and it always warmed her to watch the three of them interact, how easily they deflected each other’s eccentricities, played into their own jokes.

Just as they placed the tray of tea on the coffee table, Shigure arrived, announcing himself in a sing-song voice, followed by Hatori. They spread the pastries out on plates between them. It felt so much like old times, when the doorbell rang, for a brief moment she felt like it would be Kana. Hatori had just gone to the bathroom so Mayuko opened the door herself. A woman with short black hair stood at the door. “Oh, uh.” She peeked over Mayuko’s shoulder. “Is Shigure here?”

Something clicked in Mayuko’s mind. She thought of the lines of poetry she read years ago. So beautiful, she still remembered them. Shigure could write well when he wanted to, erotic novels aside.

Hatori appeared at Mayuko’s side and said, “Akito. What brings you here?”

A small smile twisted into the woman’s face. “What do you think?”

Hatori stepped aside and Mayuko followed suit. The woman—Akito—who seemed shy and demure until that moment, surprised Mayu with a gruff, almost masculine cry of, “There you are, you idiot!”

Shigure froze, pastry halfway to his mouth.

“You left without a word! Not even a note! You know I hate to wake up alone!”

To Mayuko’s shock and amusement, Shigure dropped the pastry and stood up, obedient as a dog. “And _you_ know I love when you come chasing after me.” Despite his teasing tone, he was already crossing the room towards her.

“Who have we here, Shigure?” Mayuko asked, smirking.

Akito focused on her as if seeing her for the first time. She looked at Hatori and then back at Mayuko. Mayuko shifted, feeling suddenly like she and Hatori were standing far too close to each other.

“Ah, this would be my fearsome girlfriend…” Shigure said reluctantly. 

“Shut up,” Akito said immediately, and Shigure, shockingly, obeyed. She bowed to Mayuko. “I’m sorry if he interrupted your morning. He’s insufferable.”

Mayuko bowed back. “I’m aware.”

Akito paused and looked back at Hatori, lingering for a moment.

“Are you well?” he asked.

Akito reached up and lightly brushed the hair that fell over his bad eye. Hatori flinched, just slightly. “I’m well,” Akito said, softly. She looked at Mayuko then back at Hatori. “We’ll leave you to it, then.”

Mayuko wasn’t sure what passed between them. Something private, untouchable, that she couldn’t bring herself to ask about for many years.

Ayame collected his things as well. “It appears you all have forgotten me, so I will make my exit! _Au revoir_ , darlings!”

Once alone, Mayuko couldn’t help but laugh at the unexpectedness of the encounter. Hatori, too, chuckled.

“Who is that woman and _what_ has she done to Shigure?” Mayuko choked. “I’ve never seen him so… _tame_.”

“She’s certainly formidable.”

Mayuko tilted her head. “What on earth happened to all of you? Ayame wouldn’t tell me either.”

Hatori shrugged, as elusive as his cousin. “We just worked through some family issues. Things have just been a little less burdensome for us lately.”

The radio in the kitchen was still playing the station Ayame had set. The day was half gone, but still not over. The two of them packed leftover pastries and a thermos of tea and picnicked by the river. They lay side-by-side with books until they both fell asleep. Mayuko woke up first, just as the sun was setting. Hatori slept so peacefully, skin turned peach and gold in the waning light, Mayuko didn’t want to wake him at first. She placed a hand on his shoulder and shook him gently. He reached up and held her hand a moment before opening his eyes.

“Hi,” he said.

“Hi,” she said.

Was she imagining it, or did the way he looked at her feel different? She felt so strongly on the precipice of something, that one of them was about to do something that could unravel the friendship they’d worked so hard to rebuild. Mayuko pulled her hand out of Hatori’s, afraid that he could feel her pulse jumping in her wrist. He quickly averted his gaze. He sat up and gathered the remnants of their picnic.

They spoke little on the walk home, but their silence felt contented, comfortable. There were still some things Mayuko couldn’t say out loud. They felt out of reach, tucked into that dark place she had shoved them years ago, when Kana stood between them. For now, she was happy to just walk beside him on a pleasant evening. It had been a long time since they’d had such a beautiful day.

*

One week became two, then three. Their lives became entangled in routine. Meals, drinks, good mornings and good nights. Less awkward, more accustomed. Privately, Mayuko sometimes let herself forget that they were not a couple, but they never closed the careful space between them. Even if sometimes she felt his gestures were affectionate, or felt so brimming with her feelings for him it was almost unbearable, Mayuko held back. It would be too complicated if something happened between them in such a small space, with still a week, maybe longer, left in her stay.

One morning Hatori sat down with his coffee and Mayuko noticed something different. He looked flushed, with the eyes of someone who had hardly slept even though he just woke up. “Are you okay?” she asked. “You look really worn out. Has work been a lot lately?”

He shook his head. “I’m fine.”

Mayuko was concerned nonetheless. He seemed unsteady, and when he went to wash his coffee cup he stopped to brace himself on the sink for a moment. Mayuko approached him tentatively. “Hey…” She grabbed his arm and stood close, pressing their foreheads together. Hatori looked surprised. She wasn’t sure if the flush on his face was due to their proximity or the fact that his skin was burning with a certain fever. Her heartbeat quickened. This was innocent, she told herself, but she knew full well that she could have checked his temperature with her hand, that she let her body jump at an excuse for closeness before her mind could second-guess it. Hatori didn’t pull away, though. He swayed a little, and maybe it was her imagination or maybe he moved closer. Their noses touched and Mayuko pulled away quickly. “Y-You’re very warm,” she said. “Do you have a thermometer?”

“Bathroom cabinet.”

Mayuko hurried out, trying to breathe, shocked at her own boldness. To her dismay, Hatori followed. “I’m really fine, Mayu.”

“Bullshit,” Mayu replied, not looking at him. The bathroom felt cramped with both of them standing by the sink. Mayuko shoved the thermometer in his mouth. “Your ‘i’m fine’’s are about as meaningless as Shigure’s ‘i’m innocent’s. You’re always too busy looking out for other people to worry about yourself.” The thermometer beeped and Mayuko flashed the high numbers at him. “Does this look ‘fine’ to you, Doctor Sohma?” 

Hatori frowned. Mayuko pointed at the bedroom. “I’m going out for some medicine, and you’d better be all tucked in when I get back.”

He was already asleep when she returned. She sat on the edge of the bed and put a hand on his head. He had begun to sweat. He woke up at her touch, blinking bleary-eyed up at her. She handed him the medicine and a glass of water. He sat up slowly. “I’m sorry,” he said as soon as the pills were down. “This must be inconvenient. You would think I’d be better at taking care of myself.”

Mayuko flicked him lightly on the forehead. “Idiot. Anyone who knows you even the slightest bit knows that you’re the worst at it.”

“Are you scolding me?”

“Yes. Now lie down.”

Mayuko tried not to feel too happy about how the day unfolded. She saw that he was suffering, and of course she was worried, but she felt a little giddy at being able to take care of him. The man who would normally fight and protest at having anyone go out of their way for him, submitted to her care completely. He probably knew well enough that pushing himself would only prolong his illness. She cooked for him, brought him water and juice and medicine. She stated firmly that she would sleep on the couch and he didn’t try to argue. 

When night fell and it came time for bed, Mayuko listened to Hatori toss and turn as she brushed her hair. She set down the brush and nudged him. “Move over.” Hatori, eyes red-rimmed, squinted at her a moment, then acquiesced. She sat on the bed beside him. “Are you having trouble sleeping?”

“A little. I’ve been dozing on and off all day.”

“Do you need sleeping pills?”

He shook his head. “I shouldn’t. Sedatives give me a headache.”

“Hm. What helps? Music? Do you want to take a shower?”

Hatori shook his head and rolled onto his side, facing her. “This will sound childish.”

“That’s rich of you to say, after all the times I’ve cried like a baby in front of you.”

Hatori laughed a little. “Fair enough. Could you maybe read to me? Shigure used to… he still does from time to time… I’ve taken a lot of great naps listening to him read out loud.”

“That’s easy enough.” She picked up the book she had left on the bedside table. “Do you want a plot summary?”

Hatori shook his head, adorably, covers pulled up to his chin. “I just want to listen to your voice.”

Mayuko slipped her legs under the blanket so Hatori could tuck more comfortably in. She sat against the headboard and began to read. In the dim lamplight, Hatori warm and breathing beside her, she slumped down the headboard, deeper under the blankets, and further into the comfortable cocoon of that night.

She woke up held tight to Hatori. The book had fallen to the floor. The morning was harsh, bright and she wanted to stay there, nestled against his body, all day if she could. She closed her eyes. It didn’t last long because he began to stir. She expected him to make very quick moves to separate himself from her, but he kept holding her even as he pulled back to look at her.

“This was reckless of you. You could catch this, you know.”

Mayuko blushed under his gaze, in this compromising situation. Didn’t kissing come first, then sex, _then_ waking up next to someone, having them stare sweetly at you with their hair all mussed against the pillow? They had skipped a lot of steps. “I didn’t do it on purpose, obviously. How are you feeling?”

“A lot better. Thank you.”

“Glad to have been of service.”

He laughed.

Mayuko wondered if her breath smelled bad. Was she sweaty? Did her hair look weird? Hatori kept on gazing at her like he wanted to say something. It was easier to imagine it was something silly, something simple. At last he settled with, “I slept well. It’s been a while since I slept so well.”

“I suppose the couch can’t be all that comfortable for you.”

“The couch is fine. But this is better.”

Mayuko wanted to ask whether _this_ was the bed or their bodies pressed together, but she bit her tongue. Hatori got up, stating plainly, “I need a shower,” and disappeared into the hallway.

*

There were moments in that final week that Mayuko felt sure that Hatori had feelings for her. He was coy about it, but they weren’t children, or teenagers. There was no mistaking the subtle touches, the long looks, how he sometimes texted her during the workday as though even those hours apart were too long. Mayuko was paralyzed by this realization. He had been so unattainable for so long that she found it hard to take any steps towards him. Every time she considered speaking about it outright, her tongue seemed to become thick and tangled, and the words died in her throat.

It was a night like any other when this changed. They sat on the couch, sharing a blanket but leaving a careful foot of space between them. It was a terrifying movie. Neither of them could remember why they picked it. Shigure and the kids had watched it recently and he had been needling them incessantly to give it a watch. She now realized why—he knew Mayuko hated scary movies and used this as another avenue to torment her. The third time she had burst into profanities and grabbed for Hatori’s arm, he laughed.

“This is unexpectedly cute of you.”

“Please, we both know I’m not at all cute.”

“Then what do you call this?” He pointed to her vice grip on his forearm.

She blushed and pulled away. “Sorry, sorry. I’ll keep my hands to myself.”

He shrugged. “It’s fine. I don’t mind if you cling to me.”

A moment passed filled with the film score, making everything feel oddly ominous as Hatori lifted his arm and wrapped it around her shoulder, pulling her to his side. She swallowed and bid her heart to be calm, to resist rattling around in her ribcage where Hatori could feel its wildness against his chest. “T-this doesn’t work at all,” she said. “You’re the one clinging to me. I have nothing to cling to now!”

Hatory slid his arm down and reached for her hand, weaving their fingers together. “How is this?”

Mayuko swallowed. “What are you doing? What are _we_ doing?”

She felt Hatori tense. Did he think he could just quietly slip intimacy between them like this, without having to acknowledge anything? He was ridiculous like that, sometimes, all that casual behavior to cover up his subtle shyness.

Hatori sighed. “I… I can’t say that letting you stay here was an entirely selfless act. It was almost convenient, really. I may have had my own hopes, even if—”

This was it. The important moment where they would both say important things. And yet, her phone rang. And yet, it was her landlord, letting her know that it was safe to move back in. And yet they finished the movie without finishing their conversation, and stole away to the safety of their separate beds like frantic animals who had narrowly avoided a trap.

The next day, Hatori was gone before Mayuko woke up, an apologetic note left on the kitchen table about an early appointment. Mayuko wondered if this was true, or an excuse to avoid her. She packed while he was at work. It seemed easier somehow, to put an end to this and flee back to their separate spaces. She collected her clothes from the dresser drawer he had emptied for her. She pulled her toothbrush out of the cup beside his. She left empty spaces in the shower as she took back her soaps and shampoos. Hair ties left carelessly on the kitchen table. The teas she drank removed from the cabinets.

It was lonely. She felt like she was extracting herself from his life. She worried that the past had marked them so severely that the two of them would never be able to step forward, past this almost-something space they so tentatively occupied. Would they pull away from each other again once she left?

She locked his apartment and slid the spare key he’d given her underneath the door. She stood there a minute, unwilling to walk away. She had the ridiculous desire to cry even though nothing dramatic was happening, and it was not as though she couldn’t see Hatori whenever she wanted, call him up right now, even. Yet she regretted letting go of that key as soon as it had left her fingers, and stared at a door that she could no longer open with her own two hands.


	2. Hatori

Things should have been simple for Hatori once the curse had been lifted. Life stretched out before him as it never had before, a myriad of possibilities and open doors he was suddenly free to walk through. Perhaps he was experiencing paralysis of choice. He found he could only take small steps at a time. Disentangling was a long, messy process. He envied the children, who had less time to accept their fate, less time to grow accustomed to their stagnant lives under the zodiac’s firm hand. Hatori started with little things. He moved out of the main house, into an apartment that was just his own for the first time. Akito said nothing about it. She had been feeling better lately, and there had been fewer and fewer calls from her at odd hours. He realized something one morning, when he caught Shigure leaving her room. Hatori couldn’t hear what they said but Akito reached for Shigure, not weakly, not pitifully, but with steady, strong hands in his hair as she kissed him goodbye. She didn’t need Hatori anymore. He was free to do whatever he wanted, and that frightened him a little.

After work that day, Hatori went to the only place that made him feel calm. A small bookstore not far from his new apartment, dutifully frequented by the bookseller’s tall, clumsy daughter. That evening, on a whim, he did something unexpected. He never thought he’d be able to, not after all that had happened in the past, not with what he thought his future would be under the curse. He said her name,  _ Mayu _ unburdened by  _ ko _ . It was such a small omission, but felt like the first large step he’d taken out of his former life.

Since then, whenever the weather was beautiful, the sky an uninterrupted blue, he thought of her. He could call her whenever he wanted. They could stay out as late as they wanted. For the first time, he allowed himself to cultivate a friendship with someone outside the Sohma clan.

He wondered how Mayu felt about it. She almost never said no to him. She followed their conversations to all sorts of personal topics without ever hesitating, but Hatori had a feeling that this was just her personality — someone straightforward and unguarded with her inner self. It was refreshing after so many secrets. Shigure teased them a lot. Hatori couldn’t tell if he had latched onto the first woman Hatori spent significant time with, or if he saw something Hatori didn’t. Mayu never said or did anything that would imply she wanted more from their relationship. Therefore, he could only conclude that the thought of being something more came only from him.

Hatori didn’t know what to do with that. His only relationship had been Kana, and it hadn’t been like this at all. The two women were too different, and the way things had unfolded with Kana would be impossible with Mayu. He was grateful for this, actually. Even though he had known her for so long, even though she, Hatori, and Kana had sat in the same room on so many occasions, nothing about the time he spent with Mayu made him nostalgic. Still, he had no idea how to pursue her.

He tried, once, incredibly unsuccessfully, to convey his feelings to her. All he could manage was a weak  _ I’m happy we get to spend time together like this _ . There was more to be said than that. That he looked forward to seeing her whenever he could. How her laugh made him laugh — even though he was someone who hardly laughed at all. He found her awkwardness, clumsiness, and her strange logic so endearing he couldn’t help but tease her. He thought of her much more often than he thought of most other people. Sometimes, when they walked together he wanted to reach for her hand, he wanted to hold her in a way he had never been able to hold a woman before. When he saw her face, soft and dreamy under the dull glow of the streetlamps by her house, he wanted to kiss her.

But of course, he got tongue-tied. All of these thoughts came at him all at once and he didn’t know which to say first and the silence between them dragged on for too long until Mayu finally said,  _ Me too _ and that was the end of it.

After that, nearly a week passed during which neither of them called the other. Hatori worried he had made her uncomfortable, and agonized over it for days, praying that he hadn’t ruined their friendship. Even if she rejected him, he wanted to keep seeing her, being her friend, until whatever feelings had formed faded out. That would be better than never seeing her again.

“Hey, Hatori-kun.” Her voice through the receiver made him smile, always, unwillingly. He had wanted to say something about the other night, but she didn’t give him a chance, immediately going into “Before you ask, I did finally watch that movie we were talking about the other night. And —  _ fuck _ .”

“Mayu?” He had just come to the somewhat disappointing conclusion that his words the other night had really meant nothing to her, made her feel nothing, when he realized something was off about her voice.

"I'm fine, it's just—" Some odd sounds echoed in the background.

“Are you sure?”

"Don't worry about it!" More odd sounds.

Hatori sat up straighter in his chair. “No, I’m worried.”

“Listen, let’s talk later.” She clearly wanted to get off the phone and Hatori had become anxious about the frantic tone in her voice.

“Mayu—” Before he could ask any more questions, she hung up. He checked his appointment book and found that his day was more or less over. He had no more appointments, just some paperwork he could complete later. On the drive there he wondered — was he too pushy? Maybe Mayu never said no simply because she was too nice. Or his greatest fear, because she knew his past and pitied him.

When he reached her apartment the situation wasn’t what he expected — he thought perhaps she had been injured, or ill. But instead he saw her entire floor in chaos.

_ “What are you doing here?” _ Mayu, still frantic.

“I see that things are not fine here.” Hatori, trying not to laugh, both at her panicked expression and with relief that she seemed quite unharmed. He followed her into her apartment, where she immediately began to run around, trying to salvage what she could from the flood. 

"I know, I know. I'm sorry, but you'd better go home. There's not much you can do here, and I need to pack. I need to call my parents." She groaned. "I am not looking forward to staying with them for a month. Maybe I should call Kana? Ah, but the baby..."

An idea hit Hatori suddenly. It was a dangerous idea. "Do you need a place to stay?"

"Yes," she said, without looking at him.

"Just come stay with me,” he replied. This was a reckless thing to say, under any circumstance. He hardly understood how he felt about her, nor knew exactly how she felt about him. He would never have even considered having a woman live with him when he was under the curse. But maybe that was why he suggested it. A moment of adolescent rebellion, years late.

It only took a little convincing (a small, harmless threat to involve Shigure) to get her to acquiescence. It was easier than he anticipated, and so for the first time, he dared to hope there was a chance that she wanted to be close to him too.

*

Hatori grew more nervous every moment that passed in the car ride. She kept looking out the opposite window. He offered to drive her to work, and she declined. Maybe he was wrong—maybe she wasn’t pleased with their arrangement at all. He hoped she wouldn’t notice how hard he gripped the steering wheel the entire trip.

They fought about the bed versus couch. He insisted that she take the bed because she was his guest, but also because it felt safer somehow than the thought of her in a public area where he could glimpse her sleeping form on his way to the kitchen or the bathroom, or out the door if he left in the morning before her. 

Even then, Hatori found himself lying awake for a long time that night. He heard Mayu walking around in his bedroom, humming, drawers opening and shutting as she filled up the space he made in his dresser for her clothes. He had been so nervous he forgot many things. To change the sheets, for one thing. They were clean—he’d changed his linens only days ago—and yet he felt anxious thinking that she would sleep on the same fabric he had slept on the previous night. 

It almost made him laugh at how young he felt suddenly. A version of himself in high school when he first kissed a girl, watching Ayame’s ridiculous light show at the school festival. She was a  _ senpai _ from the girls’ school they partnered with, and had been helping their student council with managing the whole affair. A witty girl with long, dark hair.  _ I don’t have time for a boyfriend _ , she told him as they sat under a tree far from the crowds, watching couples hold each other as they watched the show.  _ I don’t want a girlfriend,  _ he had replied. And so they closed the space between them and kissed for a long time while everyone’s eyes were on the sky, Hatori’s hands clutching the grass like he would fall into the night without it. After the festival, she graduated. They never saw each other again after that night.

When he awoke from this recollection, it was morning. At some point, memory had blurred into dream and the night had passed by him. When he opened his eyes, he came face to face with a sleeping Mayu. He didn’t dare move. Her head leaned over the edge of the couch, nestled gently against his stomach. Her legs were curled up close to her, hands in her lap. Her hair was braided, strands coming loose onto her face, one stirring in her breath. Of course, Hatori couldn’t help but reach over. It felt less cliché while she slept. No intense eye contact, no breathless questions. Just the slight brush of his fingertips on her forehead.

Her eyebrows furrowed and Hatori quickly retracted his hand. She opened her eyes. “Good morning, Mayu. I suspect you have an ache in your neck by now?”

Her face flushed. “I was fixing the blanket! And… I was having trouble sleeping…. And…”

“You were sleeping well a moment ago.” Her face at that was priceless. As much as Hatori enjoyed watching her stutter adorably, he decided to end her embarrassment with, “Coffee?”

He was still smiling as he walked into the kitchen and portioned out coffee grounds. Still smiling when he poured the water. Still smiling when he set the cups between them at the kitchen table. He couldn’t remember another morning when he smiled so much.

*

Very quickly, their lives became routine. It was much easier to live with Mayu than he anticipated. Most mornings, unless he had an early appointment, she left before him. Most evenings, she was there when he returned. If Hatori was being truthful, they saw each other less often than he wanted. The long stretches between her  _ I’m leaving _ and his  _ I’m home _ felt unbearable on some days, especially the beautiful ones.

In his office, he opened the first drawer of his desk. Inside, rattled the photo frame that once held Kana’s picture, empty now. When he had heard of her engagement, he took it down. It wouldn’t be right for him to have it anymore. It didn’t belong to him, not when she couldn’t even remember the afternoon when he took it. He had thrown the photo out quickly, before he could second guess himself. Some evenings, after long, hard days of Akito’s tantrums and treating his abused cousins, he regretted it. The tranquil expression on Kana’s face had always calmed him, reminded him of better days. He began to keep another photo in his drawer instead. Kana had taken it years ago. She used to keep it in her purse, tucked into a fabric sleeve with a cute character, which Hatori had bought for her. After her memory was wiped, she gave it to Hatori.  _ I found this in my purse, and I think it must be yours. I’m not sure why else I would have it. _ It had pained him to take it from her outstretched hand, unable to tell her that she once kept it because seeing his face made her happy.

The photo was from a night that he, Kana, Mayu, Ayame, and Shigure had gone out drinking together. Kana had bought a disposable camera on a whim and they had taken turns snapping pictures all night. He wasn’t sure what happened to the rest of them — no doubt confiscated by Akito’s people while Kana recovered from memory suppression. Hatori and Mayu were in the middle, Shigure at her elbow (they were dating at the time) and Ayame with his arm around Hatori. Mayu had tilted her head to lean into the photo, her ear nearly touching Hatori’s shoulder.

_ I didn’t know you knew Mayu-chan _ , Kana said once he had tucked the photo into his pocket.

_ I met her through Shigure _ , Hatori replied carefully.

_ Ah… _ Kana looked pale for a moment, no doubt remembering Mayu and Shigure’s cold, awkward relationship.  _ Honestly, I think Mayu should have gone for you. You look good together. _

At the time, her words had cut deep into him. They were completely devoid of any emotion for him—no trace of envy or tenderness—just a casual comment about her coworker. He’d kept the photo, though. He wasn’t sure when, but he’d started looking at it on those bad days instead. He never dared to frame it and keep it on his desk in the same way—Shigure would  _ never _ let him live it down—but he kept it easily accessible in that drawer. At first, he picked it up to see Ayame and Shigure, who comforted him despite their idiocy. They were, after all, his closest friends, and looked after him in their own way. But lately, he couldn’t help but be drawn to Mayu in that photo. Her comfortable smile, the way she seemed to be leaning towards him. Since she had come to live with him, he took it out every so often when he missed her. He thought of Kana’s words then, about how they looked good together. 

At that moment, Yuki walked in, breaking the tranquil afternoon with the smooth scrape of the office door opening. Hatori tried to quickly place the photo back into the drawer but it slipped onto the floor between them. He made an uncharacteristic dive for it, but Yuki plucked it up first. They crouched on the floor together, Yuki studying the photo. His eyebrows shot up.

“You know Shiraki-sensei?”

“... Somewhat.” Hatori snatched the photo from his hand and dropped it into his desk drawer, pressing it shut.

Yuki looked amused. “Somewhat?” he repeated.

“Just shut up and take off your shirt.”

Yuki and Hatori knew their check up routine well. Hatori didn’t have to ask Yuki when to breathe or when to reposition; they’d been through this countless times throughout his life. This was different, though. Hatori studied his notes, then checked them against his records on the computer.

“Are you excited for college?” Hatori asked as he clicked away.

“Very excited.” Yuki laughed lightly. “I’ll have to tell you whether it lives up to my expectations when I see you next month.”

Hatori double checked his notes, then turned to Yuki. “You won’t have to come see me next month,” he said.

“Why?” Yuki asked.

“You’ve been gradually getting stronger in the past few years. For the last year, I’ve continued to monitor your condition to see if the improvements were lasting. It appears they are. We can try biannual check-ups moving forward, and hopefully, in some time, it’ll just be a yearly physical.”

Yuki blinked. “Really? Just like that?”

“Just like that.”

Yuki smiled then, the kind of smile he could have never mustered just a few years ago. It made Hatori feel at ease to see such an expression pulled from the same child who he feared would never smile—who may not even have the will to live this long. Yuki whipped out his phone and began tapping away immediately.

“Texting Machi?” Hatori teased.

“I’m texting Nii-san, actually.” Yuki replied. “But when he texts you about it, tell him that I texted Machi and Tohru first. Don’t want it getting to his head.” Sure enough, Hatori’s phone buzzed seconds later with a text from Ayame.  _ Good for you, Aya, _ he thought.

“I can refer you to a doctor closer to school, if you’d like.”

Yuki looked up then. His smile wavered, then became gentler. “No, I think I’d like to keep seeing you, if that’s alright.”

“Of course,” he replied. Hatori’s phone began to buzz then. It was Mayu, at an odd time of day for her to call. He frowned.

“Go ahead and take it,” Yuki said, buttoning his shirt. “You look concerned.”

After some hesitation, Hatori answered. “Hey Mayu, everything okay? Already? I see.” It was her last day of school, and things had wrapped up early. “Around six. Are you sure? I don’t know if I trust your cooking.” Hatori laughed. “Okay, okay. See you then.”

When he hung up, Yuki gave him an expression resembling a horrible combination of Shigure and Ayame. “ _ Somewhat _ , huh?”

Hatori realized too late that many of Mayu’s students called her “Mayu-sensei”, and though Yuki was far too polite to use the nickname himself, he would certainly have heard it.

Hatori was determined not to lose his composure. “I’m helping her out with an apartment issue.”

“Sounds convenient.”

“That’s enough out of you.”

Yuki laughed and backed towards the door. “Alright. Well…” He paused and bowed. “Thank you for everything.” 

Hatori should have nodded back, said something polite, appropriately reciprocated this gesture of respect and gratitude, but instead he reached over and touched Yuki’s hair like he had many times when Yuki was at his sickest, coughing and crumpled on the examination table. To his surprise, Yuki pulled him into a quick hug. Hatori hugged him back, a little awkwardly. He wasn’t used to affection from someone who had spent his adolescence gazing at Hatori distantly, sometimes coldly, resentment clear behind his eyes.

“Good luck out there,” Hatori said.

Yuki pulled back, grinning. “You too. Good luck with Sensei.” 

Before Hatori could say anything more, Yuki exited with a wink, looking unmistakably like his brother.

That evening, Hatori prodded at Mayu’s curry, mostly to tease her. “Is it edible? I heard a few things about your cooking from Kana.”

“O-Of course. I’ve practiced since then.”

Hatori knew this was a lie — Mayu complained often about how she ate out too much, and always managed to botch the simplest recipes — but he tried it nonetheless. It was surprisingly delicious. It actually reminded him of Tohru’s curry. He tried his best to compliment and reassure Mayu, whose anxious gaze he felt even as he focused on his food, but didn’t expect to look up and find her crying.

He should have been accustomed to her sudden tears by now. She was easily moved. Happy tears, sad tears, anxious tears, angry tears — he had witnessed them all. He found it endearing, even comforting that she could so easily succumb to her emotions. He never had the courage to be so shameless. He tilted his head, trying to catch her gaze. “Mayu? I was serious when I said it’s good.”

“You never called me that for the longest time.”

He grew tense at that. So she had noticed. She never said anything before. For some time, he had feared her indifference, now he feared her distaste. “Well… I thought maybe it would be okay if I did, now. Is it not?” 

“No it… I like it… sorry….” She covered her face and Hatori wished he knew what kind of expression she was making, if there was anything he could do to calm it. “I always get emotional around graduation. I’m sorry. Things keep changing.”

He could understand this. He had been grappling with it himself these past months. Letting go was difficult and fraught. Yet, it was necessary. A gift, really, to be able to do so. “I know. But… aren’t you grateful?” He said this more to comfort himself than her. He swirled his spoon around in his curry, happy suddenly, to have finally had a meal cooked by Mayu’s hands.

She sniffled. “What?”

He met her eyes. She looked confused, a little fearful. He wanted badly to reach over and wipe her wet cheeks, even the bit of snot that was dripping from her nose. To smooth her face with his hands and kiss her forehead. Instead, he said, “I’m happy things can finally change.”

With a few big sniffs and gasping breaths she calmed her tears. He handed her a napkin and she wiped her face and blew her nose, blushing, apologizing for being so disgusting. He laughed and reassured her, but didn’t reach for her. He felt cautious now. Maybe it was too much for him to pursue her now. He didn’t know what she wanted or how much change she could take at once. But they would all move forward at their own pace, and he hoped each step would lead him closer to her.

*

Hatori thought that perhaps it was time for him to ask Mayu on a date. Not that they had never gone out together. Sometimes they were with Ayame and Shigure, but often, tired of their two friends’ antics, they met alone in little alleys lined with food stalls and tiny bars, shoulder to shoulder at a cramped counter. Hatori never dared visit these back when he was in danger of transforming, afraid of close quarters and crowds, but now he enjoyed them, even alone. The smell of skewers and fried food; laughing men with ties loosened and top buttons undone; friendly bartenders who never left his drink empty. Sitting there made him feel part of the world like he never had before. Mayu liked them too. She was quick to strike up a conversation with the bartender, argue with a stranger, form a one-night friendship with the person sitting next to her, especially after a few drinks. She had a magnetism about her that fascinated Hatori.

But they had never once called these outings a date. They were often mistaken for a couple, drawing eyes and comments on how well-matched they were because of their height. Each time, they were both quick to correct them.  _ We’re just friends _ , one would say.  _ Yes, just friends _ , the other agreed.

If Hatori wanted things to progress, he had to make it clear that these nights with her didn’t feel the same as a night with any other friend. Selfishly, he wanted to interrupt the comfortable acceptance of their platonic relationship, even if it was awkward at first.

So, when they came upon a pleasant Saturday that stretched free and open for both of them, he said  _ Maybe we can go somewhere. _ Mayu had agreed easily, enthusiastically. It was only later that night, lying on the couch and staring at his living room ceiling that he realized he hadn’t been clear at all, despite his best efforts. He had hesitated, and been too afraid to let the word “date” pass his lips. He was determined to clarify in the morning.

But of course, luck was not on his side. As he drank his coffee, read the paper, and waited for Mayu to wake up, his doorbell rang. Hatori tensed. He only knew a few people who showed up at his place unannounced. Best case scenario, it was Momiji, who dropped by sometimes with pastries when he came to visit a bakery he liked in Hatori’s new neighborhood. Worst case scenario… stood in front of him when he opened the door.

“Good morrow my dear Tori-san, you’re looking so fresh on this lovely day!” Ayame, as always, profuse with his affection. 

Shigure grinned behind him, hand raised in greeting. “We heard you had the day off so we thought we’d come have tea!”

Hatori hadn’t told them about his arrangement with Mayu. It would have been terrible for both him and Mayu — Shigure and Ayame would visit constantly, tease incessantly. But Hatori knew he couldn’t keep it under wraps for long. Shigure, while taking off his shoes, paused, staring at something in the entryway. He knelt down and picked up Mayu’s work shoes, low-heeled pumps that were unmistakably womens’ shoes, smirking. “What’s this, Hatori? Do you have someone over?”

“Ah!” Ayame lifted a finger. “It must be Mayu-chan! Yuki told me that he thought you two were seeing each other, and I thought it sounded likely!”

Shigure took on an insufferably smug look. Hatori silently cursed Yuki. He was most certainly teasing him; Yuki never shared unnecessary information with Ayame without an agenda. When and how had that meek child turned so mischievous? “It’s not what you think,” Hatori said, standing aside to let them through. It was far too late to back out of this now.

Hatori explained the whole situation to them, standing in the kitchen doorway while Ayame made tea and Shigure searched Hatori’s cabinets for snacks. At one point, he turned around with one of Mayu’s boxes of tea in hand. “Hatori you don’t like this type of tea, do you? It’s the kind Mayu drinks all the time.”

“You don’t know that.” Hatori crossed his arms stubbornly.

“Of course I do! You forget that we once dated.” Shigure winked and replaced the tea.

“I didn’t think you took the time to pay attention to her likes and dislikes,” Hatori said rather resentfully. Even back then, he never liked how Shigure treated her.

Shigure shrugged. “I’m a writer. I notice things.”

“Except other people’s feelings.”

“My, Hatori. So touchy on this subject.” Shigure snaked an arm around Hatori’s shoulders. “While we’re on it, might we ask, if this is just a ‘favor’ or ‘arrangement’, why is Mayu sleeping in your bed?”

“Because I’m a gentleman and I sleep on the couch.”

“A likely story.”

They had just started to drink their tea when Mayu emerged, looking absolutely horrified to see who sat around Hatori’s living room. “ _ What _ are you two doing here,” she cried.

“We came to keep our beloved Tori-san company on his day off, of course!” Ayame made some over-the-top gestures towards Hatori, before continuing, “But I see that it wan’t quite necessary after all!”

Shigure, of course, interrupted her hasty explanations with “My, my, Mayu. What have we here? No need to explain your little walk of shame to us.” The one thing that would get her riled up. If nothing else, he sure had a talent for noticing people’s buttons and knowing just how to push them.

Hatori decided it was time to end her torment with “They know. I already told them when they got here. They’re teasing you.”

She joined them and Ayame poured her a cup of tea. The three exchanged a bit of banter around him but Hatori only half listened, watching Mayu twist her hair in her fingers as she talked. Her skin glowed in the morning light. His stomach sank as he thought of how they could have already been out together somewhere, enjoying the day.

It suddenly registered that Shigure was making moves, and he was expected to follow. Mayu caught his eye as he stood up, and he smiled, hoping she might see that he didn’t like this any more than she did. “I didn’t know they were coming, I promise.”

“I believe you.” The way she smiled back made him want to stay, keeping staring at the every crease and crinkle on her face until the rest of the chaos melted away. But of course, he followed Shigure out.

As soon as they were on the street, Shigure said, in a sickening falsetto,  _ “I believe you, Hatori-kun.” _

“Do you want me to push you in front of a truck?”

Shigure laughed. “You should have  _ seen _ the eyes you two were making at each other. You would have made fun of yourselves!” 

Hatori walked faster to hide the pink in his face. He hadn’t thought to consider how obviously he admired her. What kind of faces did he make when he watched her?

“Haaatooorriii,” Shigure whined. “Slow down!” Shigure caught up and grabbed him by the arm, leaning on his shoulder. “Why are you so mad? Did we interrupt something?”

Hatori didn’t want to admit that Shigure was right, they had, so he said, “There’s nothing to interrupt.”

Shigure laughed. “Do I look like an idiot? She stares at you while you’re not paying attention, you stare at her when she’s not paying attention. If nothing’s going on, it’s only because of your stupidity.”

Hatori stopped walking, and Shigure jerked to a stop with him, still arm in arm. “Why does everyone think it should be that easy? I never thought I’d be able to look at her at all, not with a whole life locked in the Sohma compound, tending everyone’s wounds. How can I articulate feelings that I never thought I’d be allowed to have?”

Shigure released Hatori and sighed. “That’s fair, I suppose. You’ve always been better than me. Selfishness doesn’t come so easily to you. But we need to keep up with the world now. There’s no safety net. If you don’t act soon, you’ll miss your chance.”

Hatori pulled out a cigarette. It was stressful to speak honestly about his feelings. He was so used to shoving them away, numbing his whole self to any emotion that might pass through, good or bad.

“If you’re not careful, I’ll come steal her away again.”

Hatori scoffed and lit his cigarette. “You’re in no position to make threats. Akito would skin you.”

Shigure laughed nervously and then shrugged. “I couldn’t if I tried. Mayu-chan has only ever had eyes for you. Even when we were together.”

Hatori blew smoke into Shigure’s face. “Don’t make fun of me.”

The day was not as bad as Hatori expected. Despite their teasing, Mayu was shockingly tolerant and resilient when it came to these two. A sign of experience, he supposed, considering their years together. The four of them chatted naturally, laughed a lot. It was another reason he found it so easy to picture her as part of his life.

He returned from the bathroom to see Mayu’s back at his door, Akito on the other side. He crossed the apartment quickly, trying to suppress his reflex to yank Mayu away and shield her from Akito’s hands.

“Akito. What brings you here?”

Akito’s hands did not strike but instead found each other in front of her stomach, twisting together as she fidgeted. She looked up at him and he saw not a terrifying God but a girl, shy and a little embarrassed. “What do you think?”

Hatori stepped aside and Shigure and Akito finally saw each other. Akito’s expression turned dark. “There you are, you idiot! You left without a word! Not even a note! You know I hate to wake up alone!”

It was strange. Hatori had heard Akito raise her voice countless times. The sound had always made his body go cold. It made him want to scream, cry, hide. Beg for forgiveness. But now he felt nothing except a touch of amusement. She was just an ordinary woman, having an ordinary bicker with her boyfriend.

“And you know I love when you come chasing after me.” Shigure, regardless of how he liked to tease Akito, was shockingly kind to her. Loyal, coddling even, at times. He went to her without resistance or argument. Through their whole lives, it seemed, Hatori had watched them circle each other, lash out, tangle and then writhe away like a pair of snakes. He had never seen them step so surely towards each other.

Shigure introduced Akito to Mayu like there was nothing to it. And maybe there wasn’t, not anymore. Akito paused on her way out and looked at Hatori. She seemed on the brink of saying something, but couldn’t open her mouth.

“Are you well?” Hatori asked, hoping to make her feel more at ease.

Akito reached up and touched his hair, finger barely a centimeter from his eye. Hatori couldn’t help but flinch instinctively. Even then, he stood his ground and let her tentative hand reach out to him. “I’m well,” she said gently, but he knew behind those words were all of the apologies Akito didn’t feel like she deserved to give. She looked at Mayu, then Hatori, and then said, “We’ll leave you to it, then.” He knew what Akito meant by this: I won’t interfere in your life any longer.

When they had all left, Hatori wasn’t sure how he felt. Again that fear of growth and possibility took hold of him. But in the midst of it all, Mayu began to laugh, and that’s all it took. He laughed too.

He had lost all enthusiasm for his “official date” talk. He only wanted to spend time with her. In the end, they did manage to go out. They spent an afternoon talking sometimes, just breathing side-by-side at others. Hatori felt so at ease he dozed off, book resting open on his chest. He awoke to Mayu’s face haloed by a brilliant sky and her touch gentle but firm on his shoulder. He took her hand before he could stop himself.

“Hi,” he said.

“Hi,” she said.

All day he couldn’t stop thinking about how beautiful she was. Had anyone gotten an honest confession out of Hatori a week ago, he would have said,  _ I’m attracted to Mayu _ .  _ I want to learn more about Mayu. I want to spend time with Mayu _ . But for a split second, he became aware that those statements did not adequately describe what swelled inside his chest when he faced her head on like this, eye-to-eye.

He thought of what Shigure had said earlier:  _ Mayu-chan has only ever had eyes for you _ . He wondered what truth there was to this. Shigure could obviously never be trusted outright, but when he and Kana were together, she once told him she suspected Mayu-chan might have a crush on him. That maybe they should be a little more subtle around her, just to be considerate of her feelings. At the time he thought Kana was just a little jealous because of how easily Mayu and Hatori talked, and found it cute. Now he wondered. 

Of course, that was a long time ago. Even if it were true back then, things change. Hatori had seriously hurt one of the people Mayu cared most about in this world. He couldn’t imagine her sustaining her feelings for him through all that. She must have resented him at some point, even if she’d come to terms with it by now. How could he ask her to be with him?

As if responding to this thought, Mayu pulled her hand out of his. He looked away quickly. He tried to calm his heartbeat as he gathered their things. He had almost tried to kiss her. He was afraid of these moments. He wasn’t sure what he’d do if she refused him.

He relaxed as they began their walk home. It was still a nice day. They didn’t talk much but the silence felt more companionable than awkward. Mayu pointed out a lovely garden that they passed without noticing on their way there. As she stopped to pluck a flower and tuck it behind Hatori’s ear, saying, “There you go, Hatori-chan,” with a laugh, he knew all of a sudden that he was much further gone than he could have imagined.

It wouldn’t be a stretch to say that he loved her.

*

Hatori didn’t try to have any more conversations about their relationship or his feelings with Mayu. The realization that he might feel so strongly about her frightened him a bit. The stakes became higher and he lost his nerve. Instead, he decided to clear his mind and just enjoy the day to day with her. The weeks passed and he relaxed. He savored their routines. He indulged in the ease of acting like a couple without having to do the more difficult things, like being honest with each other.

One morning, he woke up feeling heavy. He wondered briefly if it was some kind of karmic burden for having fallen asleep excited to wake up and play house with Mayu the next morning. Usually, he made coffee and she fetched the newspaper. Then they drank their coffee together in silence, passing pages to each other as they finished articles. But that morning he couldn’t focus on any article. He sat down with his coffee and read the same paragraph over and over.

“Are you okay?” Mayu asked suddenly. “You look really worn out. Has work been a lot lately?”

He shook his head and said “I’m fine,” though he wondered if sharing the same space as her while grappling with his own feelings had taken a toll on him. When he approached the sink with his empty cup, the world swam. He felt dizzy and drowsy. He leaned against the sink, wondering if this was all part of some dream. Maybe all these weeks with Mayu had been just a dream. He felt a firm grasp on his arm. Mayu was upon him then, and he became convinced that it was true—this was all an elaborate dream—when she leaned her face up to his. He closed his eyes, waiting for her lips, but instead felt her cool forehead against his. When he opened them again, he was staring straight at her. He wondered if he could indulge further, and leaned closer without thinking. Their noses touched.

Mayu pulled away then, breaking the haziness of that moment with her voice. “Y-You’re very warm,” she said. “Do you have a thermometer?”

Oh. He wasn’t sure why he hadn’t recognized it sooner. It was possible that this entire morning had been so strange because he had fallen sick. What a stupidly simple thing. “Bathroom cabinet.”

Mayu left the room and Hatori followed, somewhat pitfully. “I’m really fine, Mayu.” He didn’t want to inconvenience her.

“Bullshit,” Mayu replied, characteristically stern. In the bathroom they were very close again. He wanted nothing more to lean his head on her shoulder. Instead, he accepted the thermometer she stuck in his mouth as she continued to scold him.

She was right. He had a fever. Mayu was still talking to him, though he had hardly paid attention to what she said. “I’m going out for some medicine, and you’d better be all tucked in when I get back.” He wondered if this was the sensei version of Mayu. The thought made him smile and obey. He drifted to sleep with this thought, and dreamt of being a student again.

The day passed in a fog. He remembered Mayu bringing him water, medicine, food sometimes. He was too exhausted and nauseous to argue. His head pounded. His throat burned. By evening, he worried he might be up all night, sweating through the fresh sheets he’d spread on his bed for Mayu a few days earlier.

And then she was beside him, nudging him over, sitting close. He vaguely thought how nice it felt to look up from lying down to see Mayu’s arm, her shoulder, her chin. She asked him if he was having trouble sleeping, they had a conversation that quickly became muddled in Hatori’s mind. He felt warm and sticky. It reminded him of one night at the summer home with Shigure, when they were teenagers. The air conditioning broke, and couldn’t be fixed until morning. It was a humid night in August. The boys tossed and turned until Shigure sat up and read from a story he was working on, back before he began churning out fluff that would sell well, when he still dreamed of writing great literature. Shigure’s real work, just like Shigure’s real self, was a private thing that Hatori only sometimes glimpsed. It was beautiful. Finally, Hatori was able to sleep.

Hatori turned to Mayu. “This will sound childish.”

“That’s rich of you to say, after all the times I’ve cried like a baby in front of you.”

Hatori couldn’t help but laugh a little. She was right on that point. “Fair enough. Could you maybe read to me? Shigure used to… he still does from time to time… I’ve taken a lot of great naps listening to him read out loud.”

“That’s easy enough.” She picked up a book, which she seemed to conjure from nowhere like a magic trick. “Do you want a plot summary?”

Hatori shook his head. “I just want to listen to your voice.” Not just then, but always.

Mayu began to read. He loved the sound of her voice. He felt fortunate to be able to hear it every day now. He reached for her under the blanket and caught the hem of her shirt between his fingers. She continued reading, unaware, but this little tether made him feel closer to her, and that calmed him. Soon, he was asleep.

When he woke with Mayu in his arms, cheek pressed against his shoulder, he wondered if he had slid through time into a future he secretly hoped for. One where he greeted every day with the smell of her shampoo and sleep-warmed body. He felt Mayu stir and pulled away just enough to look at her. He didn’t make any moves to extract his arms from around her. This was the first time in his life that he’d held a woman like this. He didn’t want to let go.

“This was reckless of you. You could catch this, you know.”

She turned a little pink, but also made no moves to disentangle.“I didn’t do it on purpose, obviously. How are you feeling?”

“A lot better. Thank you.” Not a lie, though he could tell by his lack of inhibition that he still wasn’t at one hundred percent. 

“Glad to have been of service.”

He laughed even though he knew what she was doing — what she did often when they started to toe a line — use her odd logic to make him laugh and break the moment. But the moment didn’t break. As his laughter died they were staring at each other again. He wanted to say something honest, but didn’t know what would be honest enough. That love he brimmed with was so fresh and new he wasn’t ready to give it shape. Maybe it wasn’t yet ripe enough to be plucked. Sometimes he felt nearly sure of her feelings, but in a split second he would be doubtful and fearful again. He didn’t want his first bite to taste sour. At last, he said, “I slept well. It’s been a while since I slept so well.”

“I suppose the couch can’t be all that comfortable for you.” She looked away, and he could sense that she was starting to get nervous, mentally scrambling for an escape.

He shifted away from her, giving her an opening. “The couch is fine. But this is better.”

As soon as he turned onto his back she sat up, facing away from him. She began to tie up her hair, threading it through the hair tie around her wrist. While she worked, he reached over and touched the hem of her shirt, just until she was done. If she noticed, she said nothing.

“I need a shower,” he said, and quietly let her go.

*

It was another nice day when Hatori returned home and told Mayu, “Let’s go out.”

In some years, when he looks back on how he fell in love with her, he’ll only remember a series of nice days.

“Out?” She had only returned home herself, having been teaching classes at a cram school twice a week while school was on break. She had set the kettle for tea.

“It’s Friday. We haven’t been out in a while.”

“I have to teach class tomorrow evening…”

“But your morning is free?”

“Yes.” She looked at him thoughtfully. “You’re in a peppy mood.”

He smiled. “I am. But if I take off my shoes now, I’ll lose my energy. Should we go?”

Mayu threw up her arms and shut off the stove. “Ah, what the hell. Give me  _ five minutes _ to change. Stay right there!” She called over her shoulder as she trotted into the bedroom.

She came out in slim jeans, a tight top, a pair of heels hooked to her fingers. “I almost didn’t pack these!” She grabbed his shoulder to support herself as she slid her feet in. “But then I thought I shouldn’t let them go to waste. you’re one of the only people I can wear them with without feeling like a giant, Hatori-kun.” She grinned and put her hands on her hips once the shoes were on. She was very close to his height, though just shy. Their faces were much closer this way.

He let his eyes flick down to her legs and back up. “They suit you.”

As they left his apartment, Mayu said, a little gruffly, “Did you just check me out?”

Hatori laughed but neither confirmed nor denied it.

Outside the first bar, Mayu assessed Hatori. “Hang on.” She reached over and pulled his tie off with a deft motion and then, with it draped over her wrist, undid his first two shirt buttons.

Hatori raised an eyebrow.

Mayu saw his look and shrugged, stuffing his tie into her purse. “You looked way too stiff.” 

“You could at least wait until  _ after _ dinner to undress me.”

Mayu turned a fascinating shade of red and Hatori couldn’t help but laugh. “What’s gotten into you!” she huffed as she stepped into the bar. Hatori knew he was pushing things, but in the days after recovering from his illness, he had come out with more resolve. His feelings had become more solid and tangible. She, too, seemed a little more in reach. He was trying his best at a little flirtation, testing the waters.

This freedom, he quickly discovered, was dangerous. He held back less. Allowed Mayu, a heavy drinker, to order round after round. They (led by Mayu) chatted up a group of tourists from the south and let them goad him into joining a round of shots. They had skewers and snacks but nothing substantial, and soon the night blurred with warm lights and laughter and the fizzy gold beer in his glass. 

He realized, at one point, that Mayu was teetering on the edge of being too drunk, even for her. He had definitely not been able to match her drink for drink and had lost count of how far she’d outpaced him. When he suggested they head home, she nodded heartily, feeling it herself. They stumbled through the rowdy little alley where they’d spent most of their evening and into quieter streets. Mayu hummed and they weaved a crooked trail home. At some point, when she nearly took a wrong turn, heading instinctively for her own apartment, he’d taken her hand and held onto it until he had to let go, reluctantly, to reach for his keys.

Inside, he felt for the hall light but only found the switch to the small lamp at the doorway. In the dimness, he saw Mayu on the floor, tugging off her heels.

“Even though, I think you liked them, and I like that you liked them, they still hurt like a bitch!” She chucked them away. Hatori bent down to take his own shoes off and when he straightened again, Mayu was standing close to him. Extremely close.

“What is it?” He said, and wondered why his voice came out so quiet.

She grabbed hold of his collar and began to walk backward down the hall. Her face disappeared into the darkness as they approached the bedroom door. Hatori’s heart clamored in his chest.

“I-I’ll sleep on the couch, then…”

But of course, Mayu was not really listening, or talking, because suddenly she was kissing him. Hatori’s mind went blank in the wake of her wet mouth, her tongue, her teeth against his. She tightened her grip on his shirt, tugging it and him closer. Mayu against the door frame, Hatori against her. Her free hand slid up his back and one of his hands wound quickly into her hair. As her head tilted back, he grasped her waist with his other hand and pulled her tight against him. So this is what it was like to kiss someone he could hold. His hand trailed down to grasp her leg and very quickly she wrapped her legs around him as he lifted her against the doorframe. His mind and body fell into utter chaos as he kissed her clumsily. Their breathing grew heavier. Then her fingers were on his buttons again, fumbling to undo them. In that little break of awkwardness, he regained his grasp on the situation. Her clumsy fingers alerted him to how her head bobbed, and how, as he pulled away and adjusted to the dark, he found her eyes half-lidded in a daze. He dropped her feet back to the ground and pushed himself away, panting. He took both her hands in his one, large one and pulled her fingers away.

“Mayu, stop.”

“Why?” she mumbled, slumping her head onto his shoulder and whispering into his neck in a way that almost made him lose his composure again. “Do you not want to?”

“No…” He took a breath as she began to lazily kiss his neck. “I very much want to but… we should sleep.”

Mayu dropped her head back onto the doorframe, pouting. “Liar.”

“Come on.” He pulled her towards the bed.

She flopped down with arms spread out and turned away from him. “Ugh. I always knew. I’m too tall for you, aren’t I? Or too strange? Or just not pretty at all. You’re  _ too _ handsome, it’s unfair! The game is rigged!” She groaned and rolled onto her stomach.

Hatori approached the bedside. He touched her hair. “Don’t be silly. You’re pretty. You’re the best.”

Mayu groaned again and he leaned down to kiss her head. “You’re like the nicest day. The kind that you never think will come when it’s cold and gray.”

“That makes no sense,” Mayu said into the mattress, muffling the syllables.

Hatori laughed. Maybe it didn’t. “Goodnight, Mayu.”

The next morning, Hatori woke up first with a fierce headache and a healthy dose of nausea. He took vitamins, aspirin, drank as much water as he could stomach, then set some rice and miso soup on the stove. Once the coffee had begun to brew, he knocked tentatively on the bedroom door.

He heard a toss of bedcovers. “Leave me here to die!” Mayu called through the door.

“I’m coming in,” Hatori said, ignoring her.

Mayu sat up in bed still wearing her shirt from last night, her jeans in a heap on the ground, and the blanket thrown over her bare legs. He set a glass of water and some aspirin on the bedside table.

Mayu scrambled towards it, clutching the blanket to her waist. “Why are hangovers so much worse these days?” She groaned after she’d gulped everything down.

“We’re getting old.”

“I’m getting worse at drinking.” Mayu massaged her head. “I mean, how did we even get home? Did you drag my corpse out of the bar?”

“No, you were walking,” Hatori smiled and crossed his arms. He wasn’t sure if he was relieved or disappointed to hear that she didn’t remember.

“Well, at least I have that much dignity intact.”

Hatori felt certain that it was in her best interest to forget what had happened. She would have been mortified. “I’m making breakfast,” Hatori offered, and Mayu grimaced. “Simple food,” he said quickly. “But eating will help, I promise.”

She sighed. “You’re probably right.”

“I’m always right.”

Mayu threw an insult in return, Hatori teased her a little more. They passed the morning like this, nursing their hangovers, watching TV, until Mayu finally ran into the shower to freshen up before work. He was on the couch with a book as she pulled her flats on hurriedly. Hatori noticed the heels then, lying askew in one corner of the hallway. A vague hope swelled in him. She tossed her head back as she opened the door, smiling and saying “I’m leaving,” in her bright way. Maybe last night hadn’t just been a drunk mistake, but something else entirely. Something closer to where he stood.

*

Over the next couple of days Hatori turned this possibility over in his head. He considered their brief cohabitation and analyzed again and again every interaction they’d had. Hatori had always been an analytical person. He found it easier to chart up his feelings than actually put them to words. But without warning, they had closed in on a turning point, and he wasn’t sure what he was still waiting for.

So, when she suggested they finally watch a movie that Shigure recommended (that Hatori already knew neither of them would like) he saw an opportunity—an evening spent entirely with each other, neither of them disappearing into books or separate rooms.

The third time Mayu lunged for his arm, he finally managed to accept her grasp without a flinch. It was hard to train himself out of so many years of avoiding womens’ arms. “This is unexpectedly cute of you,” he said.

“Please, we both know I’m not at all cute.” Her reaction reminded him of her facedown on the bed and he suppressed a laugh.

“Then what do you call this?” He pointed to her arms still around his.

She immediately fled to the other side of the couch, which was not exactly what he wanted. “Sorry, sorry. I’ll keep my hands to myself.”

He shrugged, trying to sound casual as he said “It’s fine. I don’t mind if you cling to me,” when what he really meant was,  _ I like it when you cling to me. _ It was a new sensation, being someone who could be clung to. He liked it. When she made no moves towards him he raised his arm and pulled her to his chest.

“You’re the one clinging to me. I have nothing to cling to now!”

Casual. Be casual. Be… cool? He wasn’t sure what the right word was but he wanted to seem calm and comfortable, not betraying how new it was for him to sit like this with someone. He slid his hand tentatively down her arm. Skin met skin as her sleeve ended. Her bones narrowed, then parted into five slender fingers. He fit his own into them. “How is this?” he asked, working to keep his voice even though his mouth felt dry. He waited.

“What are you doing? What are we doing?” Mayu’s reaction was not what he hoped for. She sounded a little wounded and rather annoyed.

This was his fault. He had dragged it out. He couldn’t keep dragging it out, or he might miss his chance. This is what Shigure meant—if you make someone wait too long for you to take a step, they’ll start to walk away. “I… I can’t say that letting you stay here was an entirely selfless act. It was almost convenient, really. I may have had my own hopes, even if—”

Mayu’s phone rang. There was a moment when neither of them knew what they should do, but finally, Hatori told her to take it. The conversation was longer than either of them expected. Hatori paused the movie and went to the kitchen to drink a glass of water. When he returned, she was done with the call. She looked disappointed. “I’m all set to move back.”

“That’s… great.”

He waited for her to ask him to continue. She must have had an idea of what he was about to say. He wanted her permission to continue. But she didn’t ask. Somehow, there was some mumbling about packing, and they went their separate ways for the night and when Hatori turned in for the night, he wasn’t sure what had happened. More accurately, he wasn’t sure why nothing had happened.

He wanted to see her in the morning, but he had an early appointment with Akito that he couldn’t move, so he left before she even woke up. If Akito sensed he was distracted during their appointment, she said nothing. Shigure waited outside for the examination, and after taking some blood to test — Akito’s body still fluctuated here and there, playing with anemia, vitamin deficiencies, all the things that came with someone who never learned to properly care for herself. Someone who thought she wasn’t worth caring for, despite her big talk about being God. A God who was bad at taking supplements, at that.

After the appointment, as Akito stepped out to take a call, Shigure slunk in and leaned on the examination table. “You look grouchy.”

Hatori was in no mood to engage with Shigure. He continued typing without looking up.

“Will you just quit being coy and tell me what’s bothering you? I swear, with you, it’s like pulling teeth.”

“Because you’re insufferable.”

Shigure laughed. “It’s got nothing to do with me. Everyone says it. Hatori is so  _ reserved _ . So  _ cold _ .”

“So what if I am.” Hatori leaned back in his chair, irritated. “What in my life has given me a reason to be  _ open _ or  _ warm _ .”

“You were, once.” Shigure crossed the office and tugged at Hatori’s desk drawer. The empty frame rattled as it opened. “And now look at that.” He tapped the glass. “Empty.”

Hatori stood up and walked to the window. He resented how sunny and clear it was. “I really don’t want to hear anything from you.”

“Hmm.” Shigure was quiet, but Hatori heard him fidgeting with something at his desk.

“She’s leaving today.” Hatori said, knowing full well Shigure would continue to badger him until he gave a satisfying answer.

“Leaving? To where?”

“Back to her place.”

A silence passed before Shigure burst out laughing. “ _ So? _ My god, you two are equally stupid. How long are you going to dance around each other?  _ ‘She’s leaving today’ _ — So dramatic! As if you can’t call her right now —”

“Please leave.”

“Come on! Just tell her not to go.”

“It’s not that simple… it doesn’t  _ feel _ that simple.” Hatori sighed. “Everything was so easy with Kana, in the beginning. I was young and reckless and I could blurt out things like ‘I love you’ and ‘Stay with me’ like they were nothing, but now... ”

“Really, Hatori. How is it that you have told  _ me _ , the person who you often refer to as ‘evil incarnate’ that you love her, and you can’t say it to her?”

Hatori fell silent. He hadn’t realized that he actually said it out loud. He was so irritated that he said it to Shigure before Mayu herself, it made him feel a little sick. “I don’t know. Maybe I’ve gotten too old to stomach the possibility of rejection.”

This sent Shigure into another fit of laughter. “First off—” Shigure said between gasps, “You’re not even thirty! We’re the same age, so I really can’t listen to any more of this ‘old’ business… and  _ secondly _ , do you really think she’ll reject you?  _ Really? _ ”

Hatori turned to Shigure, ready to argue, to find him sitting in his chair. Hatori stepped on his shoulder, applying pressure until Shigure fell to the ground. “Get out.”

Shigure crawled to the door and used the wall to pull himself up dramatically. He slid open the door to find Akito standing right there.

She took a step back, blushing. “S-Shall we go?”

Shigure waved at Hatori and began escorting Akito out, his voice carrying down the hallway as he asked “Were you eavesdropping?” Akito mumbled something in return and Shigure laughed. They sounded happy.

Hatori hesitated before sitting on his chair, considering that Shigure sat there only a moment ago. That’s when the picture frame caught his eye, its shape so familiar. Inside: the photo of Shigure, Aya, with him and Mayu in the middle. Hatori picked it up and almost tossed it back into the drawer. But the longer he looked at it, the less he wanted to put it away. He set it back down on his desktop.

“I hate it when Shigure’s right.”


	3. A Nice Day

Mayuko felt pathetic. The epitome of pathetic. Leaning against Hatori’s apartment door, she cried into her hands. She didn’t know how to stop.

“Hey, are you okay?” a deep voice asked from in front of her. She opened her eyes to find a pair of shoes she recognized. Hatori had those shoes. She swallowed and tried to calm her tears. How could she explain this to him? She could hardly say something was caught in her eye. At last, she looked up.

But it wasn’t Hatori. It was a man with odd auburn hair and a box tucked under one arm. She thought of Kyo’s orange hair, Yuki’s silvery hair, Hatsuharu’s inexplicable two-toned hair, and immediately knew that he was a Sohma. His voice was a bit similar to Hatori’s as well.

“Mayu-sensei?”

Mayuko peered over the man’s shoulder to see, of all people, Uotani standing there out of uniform, looking shockingly adult. “You okay?” Uotani asked, tucking her hands behind her back.

Mayuko was mortified. How many of her students were tangled up with the Sohmas? She cursed their small town. “I-I’m fine!” she rubbed her eyes quickly and stood straighter. “Just… ah… a moment of weakness, could you say?”

Uotani frowned, looking a little concerned. The man with auburn hair looked at a loss. Mayuko noticed that he leaned on a cane with his free hand. She wondered if it had anything to do with the accident Honda had been in. She heard it was related to an incident on the Sohma property. What a strange family. “What are you doing here, Uotani?” she asked, before the silence could get any more awkward.

“I should ask you the same thing.” Uotani crossed her arms, looking bewildered.

“I was just staying at a friend’s house while my apartment had some work done.” Mayuko tried to be as vague as possible.

“Hatori-nii?” The man tilted his head.

Mayuko didn’t answer, but really, she didn’t have to, standing between them and the door with Hatori’s brand new name plate.

Uotani smirked. “Eh? What’s this?”

“W-we’re friends.” Mayuko said quickly. “Old friends. Anyway, what are you two doing here?”

“Kureno had some things he wanted to drop off. Paperwork, and such. Before we leave town,” Uotani explained. It seemed like between her and Kureno, she was the talker.

“You’re moving too, then.” This was more a statement than a question. It seemed like all the children had grown up and begun to disperse. Yet there the rest of them were, as stubborn and stagnant as ever. “Good for you.” She smiled.

“Ah!” Kureno’s eyes widened. “Yes, that’s where I’ve seen you before.”

Uotani elbowed him. “Well, she was our teacher, so you might have—”

“No, it was in Hatori-nii’s desk. A picture I found while looking for a pen. Aya-nii and Shigure-nii were in it too. But you were in the middle. With Hatori-nii.”

Mayuko furrowed her eyebrows. It seemed a little uncharacteristic of Hatori to have a picture of Shigure and Ayame. And he couldn’t possibly….

Uotani slapped Kureno on the back, maybe a little too hard considering his cane, and said, “Hey, hey. You don’t think maybe that was a secret, Kureno? He might not appreciate you going around telling everyone.”

Kureno looked at Uotani and then back and Mayuko with wide eyes. “Well, I’m sorry then.” He bowed deeply to Mayuko and in doing so spilled a stack of binders from the box onto the floor.

“AH! How do you keep doing this!” Uotani cried out and dropped to her knees, picking them up, calling Kureno an idiot while he apologized profusely. Mayuko watched the scene, baffled.  _ They’re all weirdos… every last Sohma is absolutely bizarre...! _

The elevator dinged. Mayuko was still watching the couple (she assumed?) bicker when Hatori appeared, panting. He crossed the hallway towards them. His face was flushed, hair windswept. Even in this disheveled state, he looked terribly attractive.

Mayuko wondered if he had run all the way there. 

Hatori wondered if she had been crying.

They stared at each other, faces flushed for separate reasons, hearts racing for the same one.

“Oh, Hatori-nii. Here are some things from my office that I thought you might want. Some of Akito’s medical files and…“ Kureno trailed off when he realized that Hatori was hardly paying attention. He took the box from Kureno, nodding absently.

“Kureno.” Uotani threaded her arm into Kureno’s. “I think it’s time for us to go.”

“But—”

Uotani didn’t wait for Kureno to finish, but instead dragged him away as quickly as his limp would allow. Soon they were in the elevator, and Hatori and Mayuko were alone.

“Hatori… I…” Mayuko searched for something to say, an explanation, an excuse, but nothing seemed quite right for the way Hatori stared at her. She stepped back until she was pressed against the door.

Hatori set the box down and stepped towards her, placing his hands on the door on either side of her. He sighed and rested his head on her shoulder. “Stay,” he said at last.

“What?” 

Hatori lifted his head and waited for her to pull away, say something to contradict him, but she only kept looking at him, a little shy, a little inquisitive. “Unless you don’t want to?” he added.

Mayuko shook her head. “No… I do! But why?”

“Why do you think?”

Mayuko licked her lips. She had a feeling, a feeling that had been growing in the weeks that they had lived together, but she didn’t dare say it out loud. She wanted to hear it from him, once and for all. “Tell me,” she said.

He wanted to, but before he could say anything else he wanted to kiss her. So for the first time, he closed that little bit of space remaining between their lips. It was different from that night Mayuko couldn’t remember. It was slow, cautious. Sweet. He pulled away, resting their foreheads together. “I love you. I don’t want you to go.”

“Okay.” Mayuko nodded, smiling. “Okay,” she said again, with a sigh.

Hatori smirked. “Is that all?”

“Are you going to make me say it?”

“Please?” He raised his eyebrows.

“I love you, obviously. I always have.”

They kissed again in the hallway, and then Hatori opened the door, and they kissed in the doorway, and then Mayuko reminded him to take the box, and then they kissed again with the box between them, and then Hatori dropped it in his entrance by their shoes, and then they kissed again, thrilled by this new world where they could kiss as many times as they wanted, and then closed the door behind them.

*

All of the days after that one were nice. Even when winter set in, each day felt better than the last. Mayuko cut her hair short. Hatori started to practice medicine at a clinic outside the Sohma compound. Mayuko taught more students, watched each of them grow into themselves and move on. Kana had a second child, and Mayuko and Hatori took them both out on summer days, to the zoo, to the aquarium. Hatori could laugh again in front of Kana, talk amicably to her husband as they picnicked at the park when the heat died down in the fall. Shigure and Ayame continued to interrupt their dates, ruin their plans and make them laugh. Yuki’s appointments waned from biannual to annual to drinking tea under red maples when he and Hatori missed each other. One day, they ran into Tohru and Kyo in the street. Tohru greeted them cheerfully and Kyo held a baby in his arms more tenderly than they could have ever imagined him holding anything.

It rained on their wedding day, but still, Mayuko thought the sky looked beautiful, and Hatori thought Mayu looked beautiful even with her hair damp as they left the reception hall huddled under an umbrella that was too small for two tall people. 

Slowly but surely, time passed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to anyone who read this little nostalgia project.


End file.
